


Me, Myself and... You

by sunaddicted



Series: 007 Games Fics 2k20 [20]
Category: James Bond (Craig movies)
Genre: Biohazard, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Established Relationship, Fights, Isolation, Light Angst, Locked In, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-20
Updated: 2020-07-20
Packaged: 2021-03-05 04:22:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,629
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25408354
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sunaddicted/pseuds/sunaddicted
Summary: Suddenly, the lights briefly turned down to let a red one above the door shine brighter and a buzzing sound filled the air, making James’ hair stand up in alert on his forearms “What’s that?” he inquired, hand sliding under the lapel of his jacket to take a hold of the gun resting comfortably beneath his armpit “Q?”“I-Im checking” Q stammered, pushing his glasses up his nose as he turned to look at his computers - only to be faced by a rather loud and bright alert “Oh, fuck”
Relationships: James Bond/Q
Series: 007 Games Fics 2k20 [20]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1794529
Comments: 2
Kudos: 57
Collections: 007 Fest Fancreations





	Me, Myself and... You

**Author's Note:**

> This is my fill for the "Isolation" prompt of the Angst Prompt Table.
> 
> It also fills the Prompt 37 of the Anonymous Prompt Exchange (2019): bio hazard false alarm locks Q in his office for 24 hours; normally he'd be fine, if he's got his computers, he's good; now there's just one problem, Bond's in his office with him.
> 
> Also, happy Q Branch day!!!!

_ Me, Myself and… You _

Q shifted uncomfortably on his chair as the silence between himself and James stretched, filling the office with the kind of atmosphere that made the air almost unbreathable - how much longer could it take the man to fill in a stupid piece of paperwork? Suddenly, Q was regretting very much having bullied James into sitting down, brandishing a pen and, for once in his career, actually fill in the form for the equipment he had lost on his last mission; really, if it hadn’t been another car lost to James’ recklessness, Q would have closed both of his eyes and let the paperwork pile up in a dusty corner, in the hopes that one day the agent would be bored enough to pick some of it up and actually do the boring part of the job.

He crossed and uncrossed his legs, well aware of the fact that James was taking in every single movement and twitch of a muscle, categorizing it all away for future reference and reflexion; the other’s focus had always made Q feel… strange - torn between discomfort and pleasure at the idea of being seen so clearly by those azure eyes.

In that moment, it was the most negative of the two emotions that prevailed.

Q blamed it on the row they had had a few days prior and from which they hadn’t exactly recovered yet - kind of hard to, when James spent more time in MI6 training rooms and Q himself did his damn best to avoid the man. Was it childish? Probably. Yes. But as long as work wasn’t put in jeopardy because of their personal problems, Q knew that nobody actually would come and tell them to get their act together and act like the adults they were supposed to be - and even if someone dared to, Q already had a sharp retort tucked away in the corner of his mouth, ready to slide down his tongue like a poisonous dart.

It really wasn’t anyone’s business, whether he and Bond were on speaking terms outside of the comms.

“Are you quite done?”

James didn’t even raise his eyes from the sheet of paper in front of him, pen purposefully running along every single word as he took his sweet time reading them “You were the one who asked me to do this”

“ _ Ordered _ ”

“You were the one who  _ ordered _ me to do this, then”

Q repressed a huff and crossed his arms, forcing himself not to rub at his eyes: he didn’t want James to know yet just how tired he was - tired with the situation, with the bickering, with the lack of communication that seemed to speak in bigger volumes than words ever could. And of course, on top of all that, there was the fact that he currently was on his 30th hour of a three-day long shift and he was quite ready to get back home where he could take a bath, drink a glass of wine and cuddle with his cats until he inevitably fell asleep before dinnertime.

“Can you please just… speed it up?”

“Why, are you busy?”

“You know very well that I am”

Fair, James knew that: afterall, Q hadn’t been home in days and he had been left alone to fend off the cats who seemed to be perfectly alright with taking any food he dished out but when it came to James trying to pet them for a little comfort, the only result he got ws a generous dose of scratching and biting - not that he was going to complain about that to Q, though: the younger man always was on the beasts’ side anyway “I want to do this only once so, I’m taking my time to do it right”

“It’s not that complicated”

It really wasn’t but James had never claimed he couldn’t be petty.

He hummed in answer and just made himself even more comfortable on the chair, despite how hard it was to do that: he wasn’t sure if the choice to pick the most uncomfortable furniture possible for visitors had been intentional on Q’s part in order to cut his meetings short, the only thing he knew was that the metal was digging into muscle and bone, slowly torturing him with the kind of dull ache that spread numbness across your body.

James had been sat on plenty devices of torture, he could recognise one instinctively when his ass came in contact with it.

Maybe he should have grabbed the paperwork and sprawled on the couch pressed up against the wall; it was a little busted by Q spending far too many nights in the office but at least he wouldn’t have gotten up from it with every single muscle in his body screaming for sweet, sweet relief.

Plus, it would have probably annoyed Q even more.

Which, thinking about it, was the exact reason why James hadn’t opted for it: he might have been pissed at his partner, but he didn’t have any intentions of making the situation worse than it already was.

Suddenly, the lights briefly turned down to let a red one above the door shine brighter and a buzzing sound filled the air, making James’ hair stand up in alert on his forearms “What’s that?” he inquired, hand sliding under the lapel of his jacket to take a hold of the gun resting comfortably beneath his armpit “Q?”

“I-Im checking” Q stammered, pushing his glasses up his nose as he turned to look at his computers - only to be faced by a rather loud and bright alert “Oh,  _ fuck _ ”

* * *

The good news was that the biohazard alarm had been triggered by accident.

The bad news was that Q would still have to stay locked in his office for the next 24 hours.

Normally, Q would have been fine - more than: if he had his computers and internet access, he honestly wouldn’t even feel the passing of time, since he had pulled far longer shifts than that without fully realising it.

The only problem was that James was locked up with him and the tension that had been slowly suffocating Q at the beginning only seemed to have tightened its grip on his neck, squeezing harder with every minute that passed. It seemed that he was the only one suffering from the forced isolation: after ensuring that they were stocked with food and water (Q would need to find out which one of his minions always took care of making sure that his mini fridge was always full and give them a promotion), the man had shrugged off his jacket and moved on to the couch, where he lay down while Q communicated with the rest of the agency - still doing his work despite the fact that he was locked into an office and badgering Eve to make sure she would go to the flat and feed the cats since James was trapped there with him.

Q sighed, rubbing at his eyes - that battle was definitely lost: he had been ready to finally call it a day and go home and now he had another full day of work in front of him; he was starting to feel gross, stressed and stretched way too thin to keep functioning. Technically, he could ask R to take over but what he would do then? It wasn’t like he was alone and could just sleep away the next 24 hours - if he took his eyes away from his screens, James would want to talk and Q most definitely didn’t want to do that.

Yet.

God, he really hoped the time flew by: the lockdown had been in place only for half an hour and he already could feel his skin crawl with the need to get out and away from the other man, where he wouldn’t be forced to confront the aftermath of their fight. His plan had been to wait out the annoyance they both were feeling, quietly getting over it by themselves and slowly warm back up to one another until, one day, they would actually smile again when they woke up to one another’s sleep-rumpled face.

Apparently, chance had decided to force them into the same little room.

“You should get some rest”

“Easy to say when you’re not a head of department”

James frowned at the snippy tone in the other’s voice “R is out there, isn’t she?” he already knew the answer to that question, of course: he had heard Q talk to her on the phone, the younger man’s hand buried in his curls to slowly torment them with a pull here and there; James had had to cross his arms and tuck his own hands beneath his armpits to squash the urge to get up and grab the other’s wrist to stop him from handling his own hair so roughly, his own fingers tingling with the desire to massage the undoubtedly aching and stressed scalp until Q’s shoulders slumped, the tension gathered there defeated by his care. 

The truth was, he missed touching Q; holding him; talking to him - he just was too emotionally constipated to make the first move and, apparently, his partner really wasn’t any better which wasn’t exactly what James had hoped for when he had gotten together with the other man. He didn’t really know why but Q had always given him the impression of someone who would prefer breaking the tension right away, rather than letting it build and build until it created what seemed to be an unbreakable barrier that neither of them could see through.

“They called her in early, I technically am still on my shift”

“Which shouldn’t have lasted so long in the first place”

“Since when has this job been 9 to 5, James? Stop coddling me”

James pursed his lips tightly over his teeth - it would be a few hours before he opened them again.

* * *

Q blinked himself out of his coding haze when he heard the noise of something being deposited in his vicinity; despite the situation that entailed a lack of hot water, part of his brain still hoped that the mysterious offering would be tea as he put the object in focus - much to his disappointment, it turned out only to be water but another part of his brain, clearly more sensible, seemed to delight anyway at the sight as it made him uncomfortably aware of the fact that his tongue felt rather sand-papery against the roof of his mouth.

Yuck.

“Drink”

It really would have been stupid to ignore the physiological need to drink just because James had been the one to offer him the water; he really should have been thanking the man, considering that the way he had snapped at him earlier - had it been hours already? God, he really hoped so - had made James bury himself in a silence so eery that Q had had to raise his gaze from time to time and check that the agent was still there “Uh… where are we going to pee?” he blurted out as he twisted the cap of the bottle; he had no doubts there was some kind of betting pool going outside about how many times they had fucked already but the truth was that isolation, even in a quite comfortable and refurbished office, was far from the kind of setting that would get one’s libido going.

At least not Q’s, that was for sure.

James couldn’t help a small chuckle from escaping his throat “Can’t you hold it for-” he raised his wrist to check the time; the wristwatch had been a gift from Q and it was riddled with so many tricks that he hadn’t quite found them all out yet, according to the other man “-18 hours?”

So, six hours had already passed - that wasn’t too bad. It also meant that it was night, even if it didn’t make much difference unless they decided to turn the lights off, and that it might have been smart to also put something in his belly before attempting to take a nap that would hopefully make another six hours pass by as quickly as a gust of wind; his original plan had been to stay awake - what was a day more of working non stop? He had done it before - but the lack of tea was starting to get to him, his body and attention crashing after going without sleep for so long without the aid of caffeine to keep his brain from realising just how much he had pushed himself to the edge.

“Q?”

Had he spaced out on the other man? It looked like that if the other’s face was anything to go by: it looked like James was waiting the answer to a question Q didn’t exactly remember even hearing “What?”

“Can you really not hold it?”

“I don’t think so” they had been together long enough that wandering in the bathroom while one of them was relieving themselves wasn’t a source of embarrassment anymore but just a way to efficiently get ready in the mornings in the least amount of time possible so, it wasn’t the idea of peeing in a bucket while James was in the same room that was freaking him out - sure, it wasn’t ideal and had it been anyone else Q might have died at the idea alone, but he could do it and move on with his life without having nightmares about it. No, what horrified him of having to pee in a bucket - or well, the trashcan or an empty bottle of water - was that there was no way of getting it out of the room because they were locked in and when the lockdown would finally be lifted, someone would peek in and immediately  _ know _ and Q wasn’t sure he would survive that kind of tale becoming one of MI6 urban legends.

“Try drinking little sips over a long period of time, then. and if you have to go… well, you’ll go” as an agent, James had called plenty of unusual locations his toilet - was it cool? No. Did it bother him at his venerable age, with all the bad experiences he had accumulated over decades spent in the field? No, not one bit “Do you want to eat?”

“Yes” Q said, closing the water bottle again without having taken a sip: he was going to wait until he had something solid in his stomach that maybe would soak up the water and delay his need to pee for a few hours at least “There should be granola bars”

James had catalogued everything in the mini fridge with an expert eye, he probably knew better than Q what was edible or not in the office. He retrieved the granola bars for his partner, not surprised that Q would be fine calling that a dinner - not that there were many other options in their particular situation but still, the other man had been known to have ridiculously small snacks instead of a proper dinner far more often than James had believed an adult could endure. For himself, he grabbed a packet of crisps, more in a savoury mood rather than a sweet one, and he went to sit back on the thrice goddamned visitor chair.

It hurt a little to think that it was the first semblance of a dinner together that they had had in days.

Ok, it hurt a lot.

James swallowed down the pain and opened the crips, letting the sharp mouthwatering scent of salt and vinegar distract him from his thoughts as it made his stomach rumble rather audibly; as far as lockdowns went, James certainly had endured worse ones - if only he and Q had been on better terms, it would have almost felt like a holiday.

Ok, maybe calling it a holiday would have been stretching it a little but it certainly would have been the kind of days off neither of them got that often and while the office might not have been as comfortable as their home, but they could have cuddled and talked and revelled in one another’s presence instead of tiptoeing around one another, trying to take as little space as possible in one another’s orbits.

“Can I have one?”

James pushed the packet towards Q “I can get another one”

“No, I just wanted the one” a sprinkle of salt on his lips to complement the tartness of the dried red berries in the granola bars “Eat” he insisted, nudging the packet back to his partner; it already was a small enough dinner for James’ standards and while he knew the other man had even gone weeks on even less food on a daily basis out in the field, he also knew that his partner loved eating and that his portions always were rather generous - not that Q blamed James for it, all that muscle had to be nourished in some way.

“You should get some sleep”

“What about you?”

“Unlike someone, I’ve been sleeping regular hours: 24 hours awake won’t be too much of a hardship”

There wasn’t anything that Q could say to that: it was the pure and unadulterated truth; he marked down in his mind to look into convertible couches once he woke up, it was high time he substituted the busted one in his office anyway and why not pick something better to take its place? Something that might be kinder to his back as the years went on and sleeping on a bed, even if one converted from a couch, would be a blessing his older self would thank his younger one for.

Especially if he got locked up in his office again.

* * *

James squinted in the dark when Q started huffing and moving on the narrow couch, trying to understand if the younger man was having a nightmare and therefore would be better if he woke him up before he fell down on the floor but it seemed that Q was awake, the way he tugged at his sweater rather impatiently an evident proof of cognisance - at least a partial one “Are you okay?”

“I’m hot”

Now that the other had pointed it out to him, the temperature had definitely risen inside the room; the fact that there were two people breathing in it without the possibility to open a door probably was the main factor to blame, added to a weaker secondary ventilation that must have kicked in when the office had been sealed and they had been presumably cut off from the main ventilation as well, to ensure that none of the supposedly biohazardous particles broke their protective confinement.

James surveilled his barely touched bottle of water, considering what he could do to make Q feel better; there was another one in the mini fridge and he knew he could go far longer than the other man without drinking, his body more used to being put the abuse and deprivations. He unfurled the tie from his neck and picked up the water bottle as he made his way towards the other man, sitting on the floor by his head “Take the shirt off too” he ordered gently as he thoroughly wetted the tie before offering it to his partner “Behind your neck”

The relief was instantaneous.

Q sighed and squeezed his eyes shut as he savoured the feeling of the cold fabric sticking to his skin “How are you so…?” he waved a hand in the space between them, clearly - or so he hoped - referring to how cool and collected the other man looked.

“Training. I hadn’t even noticed it was hot until you pointed it out” James hummed as he took the tie back to refresh it “The secondary ventilation must be pretty shit, or thought for one person only being locked up which is a bit of a lucky guess, considering just how many people between minions and agents come into your office”

“I’m gonna yell at someone about that and fix it”

“I’m sure you will” James replied fondly “Better?”

“Yes”

“Try to sleep some more, it’s only 2am”

_ Only 2am _ .

Q groaned and slumped back on the couch: he just needed the time to pass faster.

* * *

“What time is it?”

“6am”

“Isn’t your neck hurting, sitting like that?”

“Better than my ass hurting because of your shitty visitor chairs”

“You could always sit in mine”

“I could”

“...But?”

“I don’t really want to get up from the floor or I will start craving breakfast”

“You clearly are already thinking about it”

“Thank you for pointing out the obvious”

* * *

James turned in his hands the spare computer part he had found in a bin half hidden behind Q’s desk that seemed to contain all scraps the other man didn’t deem good enough to gather dust on sight on his desk, but that he clearly didn’t hate to the point of completely getting rid of either “Do you think we should take advantage of the situation and talk?” he asked, 16 hours into the lockdown.

Q was tempted to ask about what but he respected and loved the other man too much to play oblivious when James seemed to be willing to open his heart “I don’t feel like talking” he admitted, turning around on the couch to look at the other man “Not right now - I’m wiped and I feel stretched thin. But I do want to talk - to get you back” Q sighed and then he stretched his hand out, wiggling his fingers “I would like a cuddle though”

“But you promise we will talk?”

“I do”

They spent the last hours of the isolation entwined together on the couch, breathing in one another’s air.

**Author's Note:**

> The title is a supposedly funny take on the idea of my, myself and I - except that Q isn't as alone as he had hoped he would be in such a situation lol


End file.
